


Boy Meets Heyworld

by Beware_The_Ravenstag



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death Fix, Episode: s4e16 Heyworld, F/M, Fix-It, Jealous Leonard Snart, Leonard Snart Lives, Leonard Snart has Powers, M/M, Multi, Post-Oculus Leonard Snart, Time Shenanigans, allusions to Zari/Nate/Amaya, honestly just lots of allusions to Amaya because we MISS her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-31 17:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beware_The_Ravenstag/pseuds/Beware_The_Ravenstag
Summary: As Neron seemingly holds all the cards, the Legends gear up for a final confrontation, hoping that they can end another season using the power of friendship and shenanigans. However, they're caught off guard when an old teammate returns from beyond the grave and Mick is caught in the crossfires of an old and new relationship.Alternatively Titled: My Husband From Hell; The Leonard Snart Story





	Boy Meets Heyworld

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TerraYoung](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraYoung/gifts).

> Thanks to my editor, the incomparable @nateheywood on ao3. 
> 
> My prompt:  
Snart/Charlie/Mick; Snart comes back and is initially jealous of Charlie's relationship with Mick until she joins them on a heist.
> 
> Warnings for brief choking, and someone's arm being broken

The road to Hell may be paved with good intentions, but the roads _ in _Hell were paved like the cobblestone-layer had been stupid drunk while he put down the stones. Nora was just grateful that this stupid outfit didn’t come with high heels, or else she would have broken both of her ankles by now. 

Since saving John from the torture pits, he and Nora had been forced to avoid the main streets, darting from alley to alley. John had said it was because he had a very distinctive face, but Nora privately thought that if he ditched the trench coat he’d be unrecognizable. 

John paused in the middle of a particularly dingy alley and looked around.

“Don’t tell me you’re lost,” said Nora. 

“I’m not _ lost _,” protested John, “...I just don’t remember which way to go.” 

“Alright, I’m done following you. I should have done this hours ago.” Nora waved her wand, then scowled as it made a cartoonish popping noise. 

She turned to John, frustrated. “Why isn’t this working?”

“I’m sorry, love,” said John. “You can’t just go poofing yourself into the vaults of Hell. We’ll have to find another way to break in.” John tapped a finger on his chin, then gave a smug grin as a thought occurred to him. “I think I have just the thing.” 

John began to pat his pockets, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His eyes lit up as he found what he was searching for, and Nora rolled her eyes when she saw what it was.

“We’re saved,” she said dryly as John lit a cigarette and took a drag. 

“Have a little faith, will you?” said John, irritated. “I’ve got a plan, I just need a little focus first.” 

“Well, your last plan was to go to Hell to save Ray, and we all saw how _ that _went, so forgive me for being a little cautious.” 

“Well, we’ll never save the Big Man by standing here bickering, so why don’t you stand back and let me work my magic.”

Nora rolled her eyes and took a sarcastic step backwards. 

John took a deep breath and withdrew a small black square from the depths of his coat. 

“Is that a phone?” asked Nora skeptically. It didn’t look like any phone she’d ever seen - it didn’t even look like it had a touch screen. 

John grimaced. “It’s a Nokia,” he said. “Now, please, quiet.” He stared at the phone with intense focus, eyes watering. 

Just when Nora assumed it would burst into flame and summon a helpful djinn, John blinked, dug around in his pockets some more, then pulled out a small business card and started entering in a number, one painstaking digit at a time. 

“I’m going to kill you,” said Nora simply. 

The phone rang in his hands, once, twice, and on the third ring, the screen started to glow a pale, unearthly blue. It vibrated furiously, then flew out of his hands and floated in midair. With every ring, the phone glowed brighter, and shook harder, until finally, it shattered, sending pieces of plastic and fiberglass clattering across the alley. 

Standing before them, slightly smoking and still surrounded by that pale blue glow, was a man. He considered John and Nora, then smiled wickedly. 

“You rang?” he drawled, then promptly fell to the ground, unconscious. 

* * *

In order to understand the chain of events that had lead to one Leonard Snart face planting in a grimy alleyway in Hell after heroically sacrificing himself, you had to understand this: he was a stubborn bastard, as tough as he was contrary. In the moments after the Oculus’s explosion, he’d been immersed in pure temporal energy. His body had been vaporized and his consciousness had spanned the entirety of existence at once. He’d seen the universe born, destroyed, and recreated simultaneously, onwards and onwards forever and ever, spiraling outwards in multicolored bands of energy. 

The human mind wasn’t meant to handle such knowledge. Len retreated into himself and let the images of the universe wash over him, no more understanding what he saw than a toddler could find meaning in the patterns of a kaleidoscope. 

But Len did what he always did: watched and waited and learned. He saw the weft and warp in the loom of time, and learned to weave it himself. He wasn’t much interested in the origins or the end of the universe, so he focused in between. He looked for irregularities, missed stitches and frayed threads, and that’s where he found the Legends. 

They often got lost in the impossible machinations of time, but they regularly caused big enough messes to be found again easily. 

It was so hard to focus, though. Making himself move through time at a slow enough pace to understand what was happening was excruciating, so he skipped and fast-forwarded until something caught his attention again. 

Aliens, he supposed, were the next logical step after immortal psychopaths, but it didn’t make him any less jealous. Why hadn’t _ he _gotten to fight an alien invasion? Mick didn’t even like Independence Day!

He kept a closer eye on them, paying particular attention to Mick, aimlessly wondering when they’d be reunited (this was a certainty, in his mind) when he saw something that froze him to his core. 

A beautiful, dark-haired woman was talking to Mick in his bedroom, smiling at him in a way that made Leonard feel more than slightly murderous.

Then, she leaned in and kissed him. 

His last clear thought was ‘I don’t _ fucking _think so’ as he threw himself into the timestream. 

* * *

****“Hiding from the monsters?” A voice came from behind Mick. 

He started and turned to see Charlie standing in the doorway of his room, an odd expression on her face. 

“It’s too crowded,” he said by way of explanation. He’d started to get antsy, feeling that familiar tingling at the small of his back that often drove him to burn small houses. So he’d done the responsible thing and isolated himself. He’d lift weights or something until the itching went away, or until the captain called them together for a briefing. 

Charlie apparently took that as an invitation, swaggering in and running her hands all over his dusty souvenirs. Mick studied her intently as she plucked a string on Stevie Ray Vaugn’s guitar. She kept looking at him out of the corner of her eye, then darting her gaze back to the shelf, all the while playing with her turned out pockets. 

“It’s not your fault.”

She tensed and very specifically didn’t look at him. “I know,” she said caustically. “The Fairy Godmother put me under a spell, and that means I don’t share any responsibility.”

“People are always scared of things they have no reason to be,” Mick said gruffly. 

Charlie laughed bitterly. “Except they do have reason, don’t they? I killed a man-”

“So have I,” interrupted Mick. “More than one, in fact. Probably more than twenty. And I did it without any fairy bitch making me.” He left that fact hanging in the air, for her to do what she wanted. 

She sighed and sat next to him on the bench press. “I didn’t come here to complain. I came to say thanks, for saving my life.”

“Any excuse to punch a pig,” he tried to joke, but Charlie foraged ahead. 

“I’m serious,” she said. “It’s like I said when we first met: I’ve been on the run my whole life. I’ve never had anyone I could trust, until now.”

Mick felt something crackle to life inside him. It was like an old forgotten memory, an electricity he’d felt the first time he’d believed that when Len looked at him, he didn’t see a monster.

He realized that she was waiting for him to respond, staring at him with her big, golden brown eyes. They were some of the most beautiful things Mick had ever seen. They were close now, so close that their foreheads were almost touching. Her eyes darted down to his lips, then back up.

Quietly, he said, “It’s harder to plot against a team.” 

She leaned slightly forward, and she kissed him. 

* * *

“I’m just racking my brain, trying to figure out why the phone called you,” said John with a frown as he watched Len fiddle with the vault dial. “There are plenty of master criminals, living and dead, that would have been much less trouble than a muppet like you.” He flicked his cigarette down onto the tiled floor, its end still glowing orange. 

“Listen, we can stand here and continue to theorize on how exactly I came to be here, or you can shut up and let me work,” Len hissed as he listened for the telltale click of the safe. 

“Now’s not the time, John,” said Nora. “Every minute we waste bickering is another minute Ray is getting tortured down here!”

This was interesting enough to divert Len’s attention from the vault. “Ray’s in Hell?” he asked in equal parts shock and glee. “How? Did he turn evil? Tell me everything, this is hilarious.” 

John pushed himself off the wall and squared off against Len. “It’s a long story. Demon deal gone wrong, wouldn’t want to bore you with the details,” he said, stepping into Len’s space threateningly.

Len raised a single eyebrow and looked disdainfully down at him, then turned his back and returned to the vault door. He heard Nora and John whisper-arguing behind him, but ignored them. Apparently hiring standards for the Legends had gone down since he’d died. 

Suddenly, there was a flash of blue light, and Len was alone outside in the vault. 

A handsome black man in a suit entered, followed by harried looking bank teller. 

Len stood up, ready to fight, but the two walked right past him, not even acknowledging his presence. 

“I’m expectin’ a windfall soon,” said the man in a slow southern drawl, “and I’d like for my assets to be in order.”

The teller looked around nervously. “I must advise against this, Mr. Neron. If the Triumvirate finds out-”

“They won’t find out,” said Neron, “because this is gonna be our little secret. Ain’t that right, sugar?” He cupped his hand under her cheek, and she seemed to melt under the force of his gaze.

“O-of course, Mr. Neron. I won’t tell anyone,” she gasped, and Len rolled his eyes. 

Neron stepped back as the teller walked to the vault, the pleasant, mildly sultry look melting off his face as soon as her back was turned. Both Neron and Len watched intently as she spun the vault door. 

2-0-1-8-5-6-1-9.

After the final click, the vault door swung open, revealing a completely empty room. The teller turned back to Neron, radiating giddiness. “This should be strong enough to protect your assets from anyone,” she purred. “Even the Triumvirate can’t get in - if they don’t know the code.” 

Neron laughed, a bitter, sharp sound that was nothing like his usual Louisiana drawl. “You know what they say about secrets, right?”

A flash of fear crossed the teller’s face as she took a hesitant step back. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Neron smiled. “They say, ‘two can keep a secret if one of them is dead.’” 

The teller’s screams and Neron’s laughs echoed through the vault as another flash of blue light filled Len’s vision. 

He blinked, feeling slightly woozy, as the vague sounds around him manifested into a familiar noise. 

“-in a bit of a hurry so if you don’t mind?” Constantine gestured impatiently at the vault, while Nora studied Len with a keen expression he didn’t care for. 

“Back off,” he said, and made his way to the vault. 

It couldn’t be this easy, right? 

2\. 0. 1. 8. 5. 6. 1. 9. 

The vault door swung open, and Constantine gaped. 

Len gestured into the vault dramatically. “After you,” he said smugly, and smirked when John glared at him. As Nora passed, she shot Len an appraising look. 

Len entered behind them, then raised his eyebrows at the contents. “This is the least impressive vault I’ve ever broken into,” he said. There were a few iron filing cabinets welded to the ground, surrounding a table in the middle of the room supporting stacks of bronze coins. 

“What were you expectin’, diamonds and rubies?” sneered John. “There’s no use for any of that in Hell. The currency here is souls.” He gestured to the coins on the table, and Len took a closer look. 

They were arranged in stacks of various sizes, one side bearing the visage of a screaming face, and the other a cleanly printed name. 

“Henry VIII, Ronald Reagan, Caligula,” he read out, then eyed the rest of the table. “This is all very interesting, but there have to be thousands of these coins here. How do you plan to find Raymond’s?”

“Ray’s soul is what got his master plan rolling,” said John, crouching down to examine the table from eye level. “I’d wager he’s keeping it somewhere special. Somewhere-” 

Nora interrupted him with a wave of her wand. The tip lit up and instantly yanked her hand down away from the table. It led her to the bottom of one of the cabinets, where a faint light was emanating from underneath. 

John stood up gracelessly and went to investigate the cabinet. It was about seven feet tall, made of unpolished wrought iron and welded to the floor. John started at the bottom drawer, opening it, examining it briefly, then slamming it closed. This continued until John was on his tiptoes feeling around blindly in the second drawer from the top. 

Finally, John seemed to find what he was looking for. “Bingo,” he said with a grin, and the filing cabinet groaned as it rotated 180 degrees, revealing a small hole in the ground. 

Despite himself, Len was almost impressed. 

Nora rushed to the hole, and looked in with disbelief. “How did you know that would be there?” she demanded, and John almost seemed to puff himself up. 

“Demons think they’re so crafty,” he said, deliberately glancing in Len’s direction, “but originality is not their strong suit. I can’t tell you how many times-”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’re very clever,” sneered Len. 

John looked like he wanted to reply, but he was interrupted by a deafening shriek of an alarm that seemed to come from every corner of the vault. 

John sprang into action, grabbing the frame holding Ray’s coin from the hole and sprinting for the vault entrance, Len and Nora not very far behind. 

Bizarrely, John had stopped in the lobby, and was examining a waist-high, gilded machine with a large crank sticking out from the front. Len groaned when he recognized what it was.

“Don’t you think this is a bit of a bad time for a souvenir?” he snapped. John gave up on trying to open the frame from the back and threw it on the ground, sending shards of glass flying. 

John delicately picked the coin out of the mess and replied, “This is no ordinary penny press. If I’m right, this will bring the big man straight to us, instead of us having to track his soul down in the torture pits.”

“_ ‘If _ you’re right?’” asked Nora disbelievingly, but John was already pulling the crank, a horrible thunking noise coming from the machine. 

The gears squeaked as John continued to spin the crank, gritting his teeth as he seemed to encounter some resistance, his muscles straining as the crank got stuck at the top of a spin.

Len looked around nervously and almost yelled in shock. There, clip-clopping down the hall at an easy pace, was a skeletal horse with a enormous, spiraled horn protruding from its head. 

“John,” warned Len, backing away from it. 

John spared the creature glance and groaned. “Bollocks,” he said, attempting to push the crank forward with both arms now. “Not bloody _ this _ again.” 

The unicorn pawed the ground, sparks flying where it struck the stone floor. It reared back on its hind legs and whinnied menacingly, then leapt forward into a gallop, it’s wickedly sharp horn pointing directly at John. 

“John!” yelled Nora, and he swore. 

“Hold it off, I’ve almost got it!”

Nora waved her wand and summoned a gust of wind, first halting the unicorn as it struggled against the wind, and then sending it flying backwards. It quickly got back onto its feet and roared, and began to level for another charge. 

“Any day now!” yelled Len. 

John almost fell forward as the crank suddenly gave, and an ovular, flattened version of the soul coin clattered into the metal receptacle. John plucked the coin out of the tin and examined it, seemingly heedless of the danger around him. The emblem of the screaming face was still there, but across the top it said ‘Welcome to the City of Dis!’ 

Suddenly, there was a small _ pop _and Raymond Palmer was standing there, one hand in John’s. 

“Oh, hey John!” he said cheerfully. 

Len snorted. Apparently some things never changed. 

Ray caught sight of him and Nora and his eyes widened comically. “Nora? Len? What are you guys doing here?”

“No time, squire,” said John. “We’re in the middle of a robbery.” With that, he took off for the entrance, pulling the still confused Ray behind him by his hand. Len followed close behind, with Nora covering the rear, sending another blast of wind to send the unicorn sprawling again. 

As they emerged onto the steps of the bank, they froze. Surrounding them, crowding the marble steps, was a legion of demons, dressed in dusty, ill-fitting riot gear. They seemed equally shocked, and stood awkwardly, unsure of themselves, before a woman with truly impressive shoulder pads stepped forward. 

“Wait are you waiting for?” she yelled. “Get them!” 

Nora’s wand began to glow and shake in her hand. “I think that’s our cue to get out of here,” she said. “Grab on!” 

Ray used his other hand to grab her shoulder, and Len was mildly surprised when she turned and offered her elbow to him. “I meant _ now _,” she said, and Len didn’t waste any more time. 

As soon as he touched the taffeta fabric, he felt a sensation in his stomach like he was at the top of a roller coaster, and then they were off, like - if you’ll pardon the expression - a bat out of Hell. 

* * *

Sara had never considered planning to be one of her strong suits. If she had a problem, her solution was usually ‘attack’, and if that didn’t work, it was ‘attack again, but harder.’ But, she had responsibilities now, a team to look after - not to mention a world to save - so she did what she had to. Over the years, she’d gotten a sense for the members of her team; their strengths, their weaknesses, and how to utilize them best. And, as captain of a team of time-travelers, Sara felt it was her duty to come up with a better plan than fucking _ Heyworld _. So she’d sat herself down in the study with a bag of Cheetos to come up with something - anything - else. 

She was about ¾ done with the bag with nothing to show for it when a whimsical tinkle, followed by vehement cursing, startled Sara out of her reverie.

When she poked her head into the bridge, Sara saw John and Nora quietly bickering next to the control panel, the scene made slightly ridiculous by Nora’s puffy blue dress and tiara. But that all fell to the wayside as Sara saw who they’d brought along. 

Leonard Snart was leaning against the control panel, casual as you like, as if he’d just returned from running some errands, as opposed to from the dead. 

He smiled when he saw her, a smile that had once been irresistible, full of the promise of mischief and the hint that he knew something she didn’t. Now, she just gawked at him, completely unsure of how to deal with this. 

Abruptly, she turned to John. “You were supposed to get Ray,” she said irritably, “not make a one-stop-shop for dead teammates!” 

“We do have Ray,” interrupted Nora, “but….” Here she opened her palm, displaying a small ball of light, which tinkled cheerily. “He’s stuck like this until Neron leaves his body.” 

John dug around in his coat and withdrew a crumpled, empty, plastic water bottle, then offered it somewhat sheepishly to Nora. She looked at it doubtfully and made no move to take it. 

He sighed and said, “For safekeeping. Souls are rather fragile.” 

Reluctantly, Nora took the bottle and gently poured Ray’s soul into it. 

Leonard drawled, “Cute. But if you don’t mind, I have some…. Things to take care of.” He made to exit the bridge, but Sara grabbed him before he could get more than a few steps and hauled him back against the control dash. 

“I don’t think so,” she said. “You’re not leaving my sight until we figure out what’s wrong with you.” 

“Wrong with me?” Leonard’s eyes flashed dangerously.

Sata gestured vaguely. “There’s always something wrong or different about you. Last time you were a therapist from a different earth, and the time before that you were a past version who was a HUGE asshole and joined the Legion of Doom to try and take us down.”

For the first time since she’d known him, Leonard looked taken aback. “What?” he said, right as Nate came bolting into the room, sliding a few feet from his sudden stop. 

“Sara, emergency: the Pucca needs dance shoes, and Frederick is hungry again, and-” He caught sight of Len and squinted in confusion. “-and what’s he doing here?”

Leonard didn’t budge, just stared at Nate. “Who on earth are you?” he asked. 

Nate looked him up and down and crossed his arms. “I’m Nate,” he said, in a manner which Sara was sure he _ thought _was intimidating. “We actually met before, when you took away my powers and-”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry I asked.” 

Sara interrupted before the situation escalated anymore. “I’m dealing with him, Nate. I think I have some old dance shoes in my room, and tell Fredrick that if Gideon can’t make what he wants, then we have a perfectly good garbage room that he can have all to himself. Now, shoo,” she said, waving him away. “Go deal with the fugitives. I believe in you.” 

Len watched as Nate walked out the room with an adopted swagger. “Where’d you find him, daycare?” 

“Don’t start with me,” said Sara loudly. “I’m still trying to figure out what to even do with you.” 

Leonard didn’t even reply, attention fixed over her shoulder, and she turned to see Mick, standing frozen. 

* * *

Mick was pretty sure he was acting like a lovestruck teenager, though he didn’t exactly have a lot to compare it to. He’d never really “dated” anyone, and if he had, he certainly wouldn’t have been able to bring them home to make out with in his room. These vague thoughts flew from his head as Charlie guided his hands to her hips, groaning softly. 

He was currently flat on his back on the bench press, Charlie straddling his hips as she leaned down to kiss him long and hard. She bit his lips again, leaving them red and puffy. 

Charlie abandoned his lips and sat back to survey her work, at Mick’s rumpled Henley, his heaving chest, and where the blood had rushed to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. She smiled smugly down at him, and Mick had to laugh.

“Proud of yourself?” he asked, a little louder than he’d intended. Charlie just smirked, her eyes flicking to his exposed collarbone. “I’m just getting started,” she said mischievously. 

However, before she had the chance to litter Mick’s neck and chest with hickies like Mick was sure she wanted to, they heard the not unfamiliar sound of a commotion coming from the bridge. 

“We could ignore it,” said Charlie hopefully. “It could just be nothing.” 

Mick merely hummed and ran his hand up her arm, leaving goosebumps behind it. 

“Oi, are you even listening?” 

“Mm?” said Mick distractedly. “Oh, yeah. For sure.” 

Charlie rolled her eyes fondly and heaved herself off of Mick onto the floor. She stretched like a cat, then gave Mick a raised eyebrow as he slowly sat up, groaning at the ache in his lower back. 

“I’m too old for this,” Mick said, and Charlie laughed. 

“That sounds like a personal problem,” she said. “Now, let’s see what all the fuss is about.” She grabbed his hand and Mick let himself be pulled off of the bench press as they went to investigate the bridge. They soon fell into step, hands still clasped. 

Mick knew they were still dealing with the end of the world, but somehow, he felt lighter than ever, and if he hadn’t been so practiced at maintaining a constant scowl, he would have been grinning like an idiot. 

That feeling abruptly turned to lead in his stomach as they entered the bridge and Mick saw his late husband arguing with his captain on the bridge, as if no time had passed since he’d died to save Mick. Len froze as he saw Mick enter, fixing him with that familiar, intense stare. 

Sara had turned sideways, eyes darting back and forth between the two of them nervously. 

Mick froze where he stood, letting Charlie’s hand slip from his. She walked forward a few steps before she realized he wasn’t with her. She also looked at Mick and Len, but unlike Sara, she seemed oblivious to the tension. 

“Who’s that, then?” she asked indelicately. Len briefly looked her over, then turned his attention back to Mick. He knew Len was seeing _ everything _\- their rumpled states, Mick’s fading blush, his kiss-swollen lips. 

Mick felt every heartbeat like it was a physical punch. He looked at Sara, almost pleading. 

She looked just as lost as he felt, and she shrugged helplessly. 

Surprisingly, Nora piped up. “I don’t know what the history is here,” she said cautiously, “but Leonard helped us while we were in Hell. I don’t think we could have saved Ray without him.”

This snapped Mick out of his silence. “You were in Hell?” he asked, more softly than he intended. 

Len sniffed. “Not originally.”

“Then how-”

“Good news, bad news,” said Ava as she strode onto the bridge, saving Mick from having to express himself further. 

She did a double take at Len. “What? You know what, never mind, not important right now.” She turned back to Sara. “Good news is that we can use Brigid’s diary to create Heyworld, bad news-”

“Let me guess,” sighed Sara. “It’s at the Time Bureau.”

Ava nodded guiltily. “It’d take a miracle to get in there undetected.”

“A miracle,” drawled Len, looking directly at Mick. “Or two master criminals.” 

Mick avoided eye contact. 

Sara shook her head. “Absolutely not. We don’t even know what kind of Len you are, no way you’re going on a dangerous mission to retrieve a priceless artifact.”

Len just looked at her and raised an eyebrow. 

Sara considered what she’d just said. “Fine,” she groaned. “But if you double cross us I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Noted. Mick?.” 

Mick decided to take all his conflicting emotions, shove them in a box, seal it up tight, and never address them again. “Yeah, alright.”

“Let’s make it three,” said Charlie, and the box exploded. Len shot her a dirty look.

“Great,” said Sara. “You three go get the diary. Don’t do anything stupid.” 

Mick waited until Len and Charlie had left, then turned to Sara. “You sure about this, boss?”

Sara sighed and looked at him. “Leonard Snart might not have always been on our side,” she said contemplatively, “But if there’s one thing I know, it’s that he would never let anything bad happen to you.”

* * *

The Time Bureau Headquarters didn’t quite live up to Len’s expectations, if he was being honest. The Vanishing Point had at least looked grand and sci-fi enough to deserve the name. The Time Masters had been guilty of many things, but subtlety was not one of them. 

This place looked more like the headquarters for golf ball size regulation. 

Mick was sitting like a statue, watching the entrance with a laser focus that Len could rarely find in himself. Len considered himself a big picture guy: Mick had always been there to fill in the details. 

Finally, he stirred, grunting and cracking his neck as he stood up. 

Len grimaced. “You’re going to break your neck doing that.”

“It’s fine, Lenny,” he said automatically, and Len never thought returning to an old argument could feel so much like victory. 

Mick gestured the three of them together impatiently. 

“So what’s the plan, boss?” said Charlie. 

Mick grunted noncommittally, but Len saw the briefest hint of a smile appear on his face before he cleared his throat and began.

“They know my face, and Charlie’s shapeshifting isn’t up to snuff, so you’re going to have to get us in, Len. Try not to kill anyone, we don’t know if they’re being mind controlled. You need to let us in through the delivery garage on the east side - it’s closest to the security office. We take out the guards, get to the Missus’ office, get the book, then get out before anyone knows we’re here.”

Mick didn’t ask if they had any questions, but Len interjected anyways. “What if Neron’s moved the book? What if he has plans for it?”

Charlie snorted. “Ava’s office is the most secure place in the building. Plus, that wanker doesn’t have an artistic bone in his body. He has no use for it.” 

“Are we done talking now?” grunted Mick, not waiting for a response. “Good, let’s go.” 

* * *

Len couldn’t help but bitterly miss his cold gun as he approached the main Time Bureau entrance. Hand to hand combat had never been his strong suit, and now that he wasn’t even allowed to use lethal force… it was going to be messy. No one had told him who was responsible for his gun’s disappearance, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the Jersey Shore knock-off from the bridge had something to do with it.

No one confronted him as he entered the building, no one even looked twice. With the uniform Gideon had fabricated, he looked like any other Time Bureau agent, which left a bad taste in Len’s mouth. He personally didn’t see the point of heists if you couldn’t take credit for them. 

Something wasn’t sitting right with him, though. There was no chatter, no small talk between coworkers as they went about their lives. There wasn’t even anyone idling by the water cooler discussing last night’s episode, just blank eyed people focused single mindedly on completing their tasks, like golems. 

It was fucking creepy, but Len didn’t want to stand out, so he grabbed a coffee cart he passed in the hallway and lowered his head as if he hadn’t had a thought in years. 

As he passed the security office door, Len noticed a couple of things at once: the door hanging slightly open towards the inside, and a shadow blocking the light coming from under the crack under the door, as if someone was standing right behind it. 

Suddenly, Len was struck by an impulsive idea. Someone might notice him letting Mick and Charlie in and bring reinforcements, so it made more sense for him to dispatch the guards now, right?

He had barely finished convincing himself when he swung a hard right with the cart, ramming through the door and into the body behind it, sending them crashing onto the ground. 

The other guard looked up from her monitors, surprised, and Len swiftly crashed the pot of coffee over her head, shattering it and drenching her in (cold, he wasn’t a monster) coffee. She crumpled to the ground, and Len turned around, pleased, only to be confronted with the sight of a cold metal pistol pointed straight at him. 

The original agent had that strange, dispassionate look on his face as he pulled the trigger. Len instinctively closed his eyes and braced himself for the _ crack _of gunfire… then opened them a few moments later when he still felt very much alive. 

He immediately focused on the bullet mere centimeters from his face, almost touching his nose. Len quickly ducked to the side, and noticed another odd thing: his hands were shrouded in a light blue glow, some of which was streaming around the agent and his gun, causing a slight rippling effect. 

Following some bizarre gut instinct, Len tightened his fist and concentrated, then watched in amazement as the bullet re-entered the gun and the agent laid down, like someone had hit rewind on the last few seconds. 

The blue light faded, and Len grabbed coffee agent’s pistol from her uniform and brought it down on the other one hard before he could get up and go for his gun again. 

Len knew what happened when you got cocky before you got out of a job, but he couldn’t help but give himself a mental pat on the back as he opened the delivery entrance door. 

Mick looked irritated. “What took you so long?” he barked. “We could have been seen.” 

“Not a problem,” Len replied smugly. 

Mick whistled, impressed at the wreckage Leonard had wrought in the security room, and oddly enough, so did Charlie. 

“Check the security footage for Neron or the Godmother bitch,” ordered Mick, and Charlie sprang to action, looking more than a little turned on by Mick taking charge. Well, that just wouldn’t do. 

He leaned against the wall as Charlie flicked through the monitors, and caught Mick’s attention with a small gesture. 

“You know what this reminds me of?” Len said conversationally. “Chicago, ‘94.” 

He actually barked a short laugh at that, and Len internally crowed. “Even this can’t go that bad,” Mick joked as he turned back to the monitors. 

Len caught Charlie’s eye and let his pleasant expression morph into a condescending smirk, which only intensified as she glared in response. 

“He’s not here,” said Mick, oblivious to the contest happening over his shoulder, “we need to make our move now.”

“We should be able to blend in as long as we look like we’ve been brainwashed,” said Len, then grimaced as Mick flinched. “Sorry, that was tasteless.” 

“Let’s just go,” he muttered and Len felt like shattering a pot of coffee on his own head. _ Way to get your man back, _ he thought bitterly, _ remind him of the worst mistake you ever made, which resulted in him being brainwashed and enslaved. Real pro move. _

Len couldn’t see Charlie’s face as they walked single file to Ava’s office, but he was sure she was gloating. 

They made it into the office without incident, which Len thought was a little suspicious for “the most secure location in the Bureau”, but he didn’t raise any objections since Mick and Charlie didn’t seem suspicious at all. 

Mick instantly started ripping through the bookshelves, grabbing two or three books at a time then throwing them on the ground when they weren’t what he was looking for. Charlie, meanwhile, made for a trunk in a far corner of the room and started fiddling in the lock with some hairpins she’d produced. 

Len, for lack of anything better to do, examined the sleek, neat desk that was the only other object of note in the room. There was a colorful book left face down on the desk, as if it had been plopped down in a hurry, and Len laughed as he read the title out loud. 

“_ Heatwaves: An Erotic Odyssey. _ It’s like your old supervillain name-” There was a loud _ thump, _and Len looked up to see that Mick had dropped a book on the carpeted floor, and was hurriedly returning it to the shelf. His ears were beet red. 

Charlie leapt up from the trunk, holding a leather bound book under her arm that Len assumed must be Brigid’s diary. She grinned at Mick and said, “Oi, isn’t that one of yours?”

Mick’s blush spread to his cheeks as he whirled around and glared at her. “Shut up,” he hissed, but Charlie just laughed. 

“Don’t be shy, love,” she said gleefully. “The rest of the world already knows, you might as well tell him!”

“We should probably get out of here with the diary,” said Mick hastily, and Len directed the full force of his stare at Mick, effectively pinning him in place. 

“Mick,” he said with deceptive composure. “Did you write an erotic novel? For _ women _?” 

Charlie laughed. “Not just one, mate. Probably like… fifty by now!” 

“Four!” Mick protested, then grimaced when he realized he’d given away the game. 

“I see,” said Len. “And you were going to tell me this when?” 

Mick puffed up against Len’s relentless stare. “Is this really what you’re worrying about right now?” he said heatedly. “Who cares if I have a hobby?”

“I don’t,” shot back Len. “I just didn’t know we were keeping secrets now-”

“He don’t have to tell you anything, arsehole” interjected Charlie, standing between them now, “You don’t get to come in here and act like you’re cock of the walk just ‘cause you used to be dead!”

Len stared at her in open mouthed shock for a second, then clicked his mouth shut angrily. “I don’t really need your opinion, homewrecker. This is a personal matter.”

“_ What _did you just call me, you stupid ghost?” Charlie asked menacingly, and that marked the last of Len’s self control. 

Len and Charlie started trading barbs, growing increasingly louder, fighting like alleycats over a fishbone. The fishbone in question pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes in an attempt to stave off the coming headache. 

Suddenly, the door to the office opened.

Neron stood in the doorway, dressed in an impeccable (if bland) suit. The four of them stood frozen in shock, as Neron’s eyes flicked from Charlie to Mick to Len to the diary to the book Len was holding in the air, mid gesticulation. 

“Well,” said Neron after a few agonizing seconds, “I hope you didn’t lose my place.” 

Len moved instinctively and threw the novel at Neron’s head, nailing him in the eye with one of the corners. As he went down, clutching his face, Len yelled “Run!” and sprinted for the door, leaping neatly over Neron’s crouched form.

Charlie and Mick followed close behind, Mick covering the rear and laying down a cover of flame to discourage any agents from pursuing them. 

The glass doors which marked the main entrance loomed into view, and Len braced himself as he shouldered through them, only barely slowing down. He recovered his footing as he raced down the concrete walkway and made for the cloaked jumpship. Adrenaline racing, Len glanced behind him, then made a sudden stop. Charlie collided with him a second later, sending them both tumbling to the ground. 

“Oi,” she said angrily. “What’s that all about?” 

Len gestured wordlessly to where Mick was standing frozen, mid stride. His panicked eyes were the only things that were moving, darting from side to side. 

Neron emerged from behind him, one hand outstretched in Mick’s direction. With a gesture, Mick was brought to his knees, jerky and uncoordinated. Neron smiled condescendingly at the two of them.

“That was cute,” he said, “but I do need the diary back, now.” 

On her feet again, Charlie clutched the book to her chest reflexively.

Neron sighed, exasperated. “Alright, then, how does ‘Give the diary back or I’ll rip your boyfriend’s soul from his body and add it to my essence’ sound?” 

Len slowly turned to Charlie. “Give me the book,” he said, unable to keep the undercurrent of rage out of his otherwise cool tone. 

Charlie took a step backwards. “Listen mate,” she began, but Len was already moving, attempting to rip the book out of her hands. Charlie stumbled backwards out of his reach, then dove to the ground to dodge his next swing. Len was about to bring his foot down on her hand when they were interrupted by the sound of Neron clapping. 

“As hilarious as this is,” he said, laughter evident in his voice, “the clock is ticking.” He turned with a hungry expression back to Mick, and suddenly his face was full of ever shifting holes, appearing and disappearing like bubbles on the surface of boiling water. He opened his palm and Mick began to scream, color leaching from his face along with a stream of gentle white smoke, which was absorbed into his face. 

“No!” screamed Len and Charlie at the same time. 

Len felt panic rising within him, and he began to feel like his skin was suddenly too tight. His eyes grew hot.

Unbeknownst to him, his eyes had begun to glow, and a fierce blue aura surrounded his body. In a voice that echoed with billions of years of knowledge, he yelled, “Stop!” 

Neron was knocked to the ground by the force of the blast that hit him, and without further inspection Len could feel that he’d been frozen in time like the agent from earlier. He concentrated, and the white smoke fled from Neron’s orifices and re-entered Mick, who stirred with a groan. 

“Go get Mick,” he said, labored, “I don’t know how long I can hold him.” 

Charlie nodded, uncharacteristically quiet, and rushed to Mick’s side. She slung his arm around her shoulder and helped him hobble back to Len. He gestured curtly for them to move ahead, and he slowly followed them, not turning his back on the figure on the ground until they’d crested the hill that hid the jump ship.

Once the door had closed and the ship roared to life, the blue aura dissipated, and Len collapsed into the seat, feeling like he’d just deadlifted a tank. 

Mick was semi-conscious on the seat across from him, while Charlie was sitting silently at the steering console. 

Len was the first to break the dour silence. 

“So, that could have gone better.”

* * *

Zari sighed and replayed the clip of her younger self playing with Wicksty. She couldn’t remember feeling as happy as she looked in the clip, surrounded by kids who all wanted to be her friend. 

Gideon had said that if Heyworld succeeded, her family would be saved, but as a consequence Zari would assimilate into the new timeline and become a completely different person. She wouldn’t remember anything she did with the Legends. She wouldn’t remember Nate or Amaya. 

She knew that she should be happy. A good daughter probably wouldn’t hesitate to give up everything for her family. And yet. 

And yet Zari didn’t want to lose two years of memories, full of good times and bad times and straight up weird times. She didn’t want to give up Amaya, as much as she missed her, and she didn’t want to give up Nate, who would probably die without her. 

And as much as she tried to smother it, a small and bitter part of her was angry, asking why just when she had made her peace and began to move on, the world was taunting her with the chance for something she’d wanted so badly for so long. 

Zari was abruptly snapped out of her rumination by the sound of yelling. She poked her head out of the study and saw Mick gesturing wildly, diary in hand, at Charlie and a man she had to assume was “that doomworld asshole” that Nate had mentioned.

Sara rushed onto the bridge, followed by Nate, Mona, and Gary. “Woah, calm down,” she said, interrupting Mick mid-curse. 

When she had their attention, she asked, “What happened?” 

Mick growled. “Thanks to these two geniuses, Neron knows our plan!” 

Len and Charlie looked sheepish. 

“He knows we’re building a theme park?” asked Nate, baffled. 

Mick whirled around. “He knows we’re planning to use the diary,” he said heatedly, “and, oh yeah, the bastard nearly _ dementor’d _me.”

Len made an offended noise. “I spent _ years _trying to get you to read Harry Potter!”

Mick rolled his eyes. “Well, they weren’t even as great as everyone said-”

“Well I guess you’d know, since you’re a “best-selling author” now-”

The team watched the argument like one would watch a tennis match between two players who only vaguely knew what the rules were. 

Mick was looking more murderous by the second. “Why do you care so much about that? It’s just a hobby!”

Len’s aloof and distant facade was slipping as he shot back, “Maybe because I had to hear it from your _ child bride-” _

“Oi! You better shut your mouth, or I’ll shut it for you!” Charlie snarled.

“Bold words considering this whole mess is _ your _fault,” Len shot back, and Zari almost slapped her forehead in exasperation. 

“How is this _ my _fault?” asked Charlie in disbelief. “You’re the one who held us up in his office with your nattering-”

“_ You’re _ the one who _ insisted _ on coming along on the heist-”

“It doesn’t matter who’s fault it is,” Sara said, trying to cut through the argument. 

“No, you know what? I know exactly whose fault it is.” Len whirled back to Mick and fixed him with an accusing stare. “Maybe if you had waited until my body was cold to move on, we wouldn’t be in this situation at all.”

The room was abruptly silent. Zari felt her mouth fall open of its own accord.

Mick’s expression was heartbreakingly raw. “You were the one who left _ me _behind,” he said quietly. “Or did you forget that?”

Sara cautiously stepped forward when neither of them showed any signs of wavering from their stare-down. 

“Mick, go to your room. Len, stay in the library,” she ordered. “Now is _ not _the time for this.”

Len broke eye contact first, lip curled in a sneer. “Fine,” he drawled, “but don’t come get me when you need help saving the world. I’m clearly not needed here.”

He stalked out of the bridge in one direction, while Mick stomped off in the other.

The awkward silence was broken by Mona, who looked after Len and said, “Who was that?”

* * *

The instant Zari entered the library, she was struck by the full force of Leonard Snart’s icy glare. “Did Sara send you to talk me into helping?” he snapped. “Because it won’t work. This move was old when _ I _was on the team.”

“Nah, I just figured you needed someone to vent to,” she said, casually examining the shelves, deliberately not looking at him. 

“I don’t _ need _ anything, except for Michael to come to his senses.”

Zari settled into one of the armchairs and hissed sympathetically. “The full name? Yikes, he must really be in trouble.”

“Spare me the lecture,” he said sharply, “I can already guess what you’re going to say; that I need to be patient with him and forgive him. Well guess what? I’m not and I won’t. He knows who he married.”

Sitting forward, she protested, “Can’t you cut him some slack? This isn’t the first time he thought he had you back.”

Len sank in his chair, dejected. “I know. Gideon filled me in,” he said bitterly. “Yet another one of my mistakes.”

Zari considered that for a second. “You can’t blame yourself for what those other yous did. They weren’t you-” Len shot her an absolutely pathetic look, and she hesitantly finished, “...Right?”

Len took a deep breath and began. 

“The tapestry of fate is imperfect and flawed. There are what I called ‘free spaces’; little holes in the fabric that I could try to fit into. But none of the ones I found were big enough, or at least, that’s how I conceived it.” 

Zari watched as Len’s eyes grew distant and unfocused, like he was seeing something she couldn’t.

“So I withdrew and looked for new ones. But those previous attempts to re-enter the time stream, they left marks, like when you poke your finger through a gap in a knit blanket - it’s permanently stretched, even when your finger is gone.” 

“As best I can tell, these attempts aligned with the… other versions of me that Mick has encountered. A hallucination, or a past version of myself, or myself from an alternate earth.” Len blinked rapidly, seemingly coming back to himself. 

“All those versions of me did was hurt him. And it’s _ my _fault that he doesn’t trust me anymore, why he’s run into someone else’s arms.” 

Zari tilted her head thoughtfully. “You know, I can kind of see where Mick’s coming from.” Len’s face shot up, glaring icy daggers at her. She ignored him and continued. 

“I grew up in a horrible place. My family and I were forced out of our homes because of who we were, my brother was killed trying to save us. I had to close myself off from everything just to survive. Even when the Legends found me and gave me a home, I clung to that version of myself, because it was all I knew.” She laughs, somewhat bitterly.

“And now? Now Gideon is telling me that Nate’s stupid plan _works. _That if we pull this off, my family gets to stay in DC, and we never have to go on the run. And I know I should be happy, and I am, but I’m also scared. I don’t want to give up my new family, even though I love my old one.” She quickly wiped her eyes to get rid of any evidence of tears. 

“But you were looking for a way to save your family,” argued Len, “Mick - wasn’t.”

Zari rolled her eyes. “It’s not a one to one comparison, but my point still stands. Things change. People change. For better or worse, we have to try to deal with it.”

Len still didn’t look convinced, so she added, “And if it’s any consolation, I don’t think Mick moved on as much as you think he did. He still has your coats in his room, mint condition.”

Gideon chimed in from above, startling them both. “The captain would like the team to assemble on the bridge before the grand opening.”

Zari sighed and patted Len on the back. “Good talk,” she said, and got up to leave. 

At the doorway, she hesitated. “And give Charlie a chance,” she said, not looking over her shoulder, “she’s actually pretty cool once you get to know her.” 

Then she left. 

* * *

Each time his fist thudded into the punching bag, Mick replayed what Len had said. 

_ Maybe if you had waited until my body was cold to move on, we wouldn’t be in this situation at all. _

He growled and hit the bag viciously. 

Mick had grieved for almost two years, and Len had the nerve to accuse him of moving on too quickly? It was just like him to show up when Mick was finally _ happy _and try to ruin it for him. 

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed the soft knocks at his bedroom door. He practically ripped the door open, ready to chew out whoever thought it would be a good idea to bother him - then looked down, and saw Mona holding a bright pink box. 

When he glared at the intrusion, she held it up in front of her face as if in defense. “Don’t be mad! I brought cupcakes.” 

After a second, he grunted and retreated from the doorframe, allowing her entry. 

She entered without hesitation, and Mick couldn't help but briefly long for the days when people were actually afraid of him. He banished the thought as she opened the box and he saw the four enormous cupcakes within. 

He reached to grab one, then paused. “You better not be here to give me a pep talk,” he said suspiciously. 

Mona put a hand on her chest, theatrically scandalized. “I would never!”

Mick waited a few seconds. 

“Soooo,” she asked innocently. “Who was that guy out there?”

There it was. 

Mick grunted and selected a chocolate cupcake from the box. “No one. None of your business,” he said, and took a big bite. 

“Is he your Garima?”

Mick coughed, choking and sending crumbs flying.

Mona nodded sagely. “I see,” she said. She pulled up the leather armchair and sat down, looking at Mick expectantly. 

Mick wiped his mouth. “I’m not laying down on the bench press,” he said. 

Mona crossed her arms. “If I leave, I’m taking the cupcakes with me.” 

Well, if she was going to be like that.

“Fine,” snapped Mick, “But if you start talking about _ feelings _, you’re out, and I’m keeping the cupcakes.” 

“Fair enough,” conceded Mona. “How did you propose?”

This caught Mick off-guard. “Um, well, I guess we robbed a department store.”

“That’s _ so _romantic,” Mona sighed dreamily. 

“We were young, then,” he said, suddenly flooded with memories. “I think Lenny wanted some cash before the holidays so Lisa could celebrate Hanukkah.”

He chuckled. “Just about everything that could went wrong. It was sloppy, and we were lucky to get away with our hides. 

“Back at the house, Len was complaining, and I don’t remember why, but it irritated me, so I reach into my pocket at throw this at him.” He showed Mona the plain metal band that he’s currently wearing on a chain around his neck, and she ooh’d in admiration.

“Anyways, he gets all quiet and I’m afraid that he’s gonna say it’s a bad idea, when he just rolls his eyes at me and says there’s no take backs.”

Mick didn’t realize he was crying until a tear fell on his wrist, startling him out of his reverie. 

Mona threw herself onto the bench press and hugged him, her arms barely wrapping around his torso. 

“I _ did _ the hard part,” he choked out, “I _ grieved. _ I lived _ without _him. And now he’s back, just in time to make me feel guilty for wanting anything for myself.”

Mona looked up at him. “Are you sure _ he’s _the one making you feel guilty?” she asked carefully. 

Mick wiped away the remnants of his tears, sniffling roughly. “He certainly isn’t helping,” he said. 

Mona, as if sensing that Mick’s moment of vulnerability was coming to a close, asked, “Do you still love him?” 

Mick was silent for an agonizingly long stretch of time. Just as Mona was about to pack up her cupcakes and go, he answered.

“I don’t think I know how to not love him.” 

Before Mona could reply, Gideon interrupted. 

“The captain would like the team to assemble on the bridge before the grand opening,” she said in her cheerfully neutral manner. 

Mick stood up and began unwrapping his hands, doing his best to avoid looking at Mona.

She sighed and stood up as well, leaving the cupcakes on the bench press.

As the door slid open for her to exit, Mick called after her. 

“Does Wolfie have weird therapy powers or something?”

Mona looked over her shoulder and smiled softly.

“Nope, that’s just a Mona Wu special.”

* * *

“This plan better work,” grumbled Charlie as she and Mona herded the magical creatures into the green room. 

“It’s a good plan,” assured Mona, “even John seemed less pessimistic than usual!” Something caught her attention in the corner of the room. “Hey! Stop that!”

Charlie chuckled as Mona ran off to berate the ogre, who seemed to shrink under her gaze, despite being more than twice her size. 

“Hope you don’t get stage fright,” rumbled a voice from behind her. 

Charlie turned and smiled when she saw Mick. 

“Who, me? Not a chance.”

She strode over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me,” she admitted. 

Mick tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Not a chance,” he repeated.

Charlie hesitated and looked guilty. “Listen, I’m-”

“Don’t apologize,” Mick interrupted. “It’s not your fault. I should have known something like that was gonna happen.”

“How about it’s no one’s fault,” said Charlie, “and we move on with our lives.”

Mick just grunted, which Charlie chose to take as agreement.

“Listen, after all this, we need to talk,” she said.

“You think there’s going to be an ‘after’?” said Mick disbelievingly. 

“Come on,” Charlie joked, “You lot have pulled off wackier schemes. Plus, now, you have me.” 

She was pleasantly surprised when Mick gently kissed her in response. 

“After,” he promised. 

Charlie grinned. “Now, let’s make some magic!

* * *

“Now, let’s see what daring do the Legends of Tomorrow get into,” Gary paused and gestured dramatically, “…today.”

There was a brief musical sting, then Sara and Nate jogged into the arena, acting like they were third rate Bruce Lee impressionists striking a variety of combat poses and making increasingly cartoonish fighting noises. 

Finally, thankfully, they stopped and wiped their hands. Sara put her hands on her hips and said “And that’ll teach those bad guys that crime doesn’t pay! Thanks for the assist, Green Arrow! See you later, Supergirl!”

Mick was fervently glad that no one could ever connect this doomed franchise to him. He felt like he was going to combust with second-hand embarrassment

He flipped to the correct page as Sara got to the moral. 

“Wait! Hold on!” she said. “What if, instead of showin’ ‘em what _ we _ got, we ask them what _ they _have?” 

Mick saw the audience start to lose interest, mumbling to each other. He even heard one kid loudly say, “I thought this was supposed to be a _ superhero _show!”

The crowd was even starting to get to Sara and Nate. Nate’s smile was strained as he said, “Minotaur! Your passion is music! Why don’t you show us what you got?” 

Gary ran up with a guitar and presented it to the Minotaur while the audience booed. People were just beginning to get up to leave when the tent shook with a ferocious roar.

Nora, Gary, and Charlie all rushed from backstage and gathered behind Sara and Nate as Tabitha strode into the tent, Neron at her side. 

“Did you really think you could stop us?” she cackled. “These fools you brought here will only serve our hellish ends!”

She gestured with her staff to the tent entrance, where an enormous green dragon burst through the flaps. It roared again and positioned itself above Tabitha protectively.

“Is that-” began Charlie.

“-Wicksty?” finished Nate, incredulously. 

Neron looked around the tent and laughed. “When your associates broke into my office for the diary, I couldn’t have possibly imagined you were going to use it for something this idiotic.” 

Nate gave a strangled yell and charged at Neron, aiming a steeled fist to his face. Neron caught the fist in his hand then twisted Nate’s arm dangerously far to the side. Sara moved as if to go after him, but Nora grabbed her arm and shook her head. “Neron can’t kill Nate,” she hissed, “but he _ can _kill you.” 

Neron cooed with sarcastic sympathy. “Aw, does that upset you?” he mocked, leaning in to Nate’s face. 

“Heyworld was the pipe dream of a sad, old man, made in a last ditch attempt to gain the respect of his son,” he said, clearly savoring the anguish on Nate’s face. “And making this place real won’t make your father any less dead.” 

There was a sickening _ snap _, and Neron released Nate as he collapsed to the ground with a horrible scream. Sara tugged her arm from Nora’s grasp and ran towards Nate, heedless of the danger. 

“Oi,” came a voice from the stands, and Neron turned just in time to be hit full on with a fireball. 

John Constantine jumped into the arena and put up his fists like he was getting into a boxing match. “Pick on someone your own size,” he said.

The flames cleared, revealing Neron to be unharmed. “John, John, John,” he said, shaking his head almost scoldingly. “You think you would have learned not to play with fire by now.” 

His hand shot out and John flew backwards against the wall of the arena, and remained pinned there by an invisible force. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a _ very _long time,” Neron snarled, stalking forwards. “I intend to savor it.” 

“Don’t play with him too long,” scolded Tabitha. “We have business to-”

“SURPRISE ROUND,” cried Gary, startling everyone. “CAST LIGHTNING BOLT!” 

Nora smiled threateningly. “With pleasure.”

A jolt of electricity burst from her wand and crashed into Tabitha like a train, sending her flying into Wickstable. The dragon backed up, alarmed, and sniffed her curiously. She shooed him away, and to her feet. 

She scowled, singed hair standing on end. “I should have ended you when I had the chance!” she said murderously, and planted her staff into the ground, sending a wave of sand towards them. Nora and Gary barely dodged it, and coughed at the sand in their lungs. 

“Let’s see how you survive a _ real _witches’ duel, my pet!” she sneered, as Nora readied her wand. 

Meanwhile, John was released by the invisible force and fell to the ground just as Neron reached him. He tried to stand up, but Neron kicked him in the ribs, causing him to double over in pain. Neron hoisted him to his feet and pinned him against the arena wall again, uncomfortably close. 

“You really made this too easy, Johnny boy,” he murmured in his ear, sounding almost sympathetic. “Now all we have to do is use all the fear your little show has caused to open a portal to hell.” 

He wrapped his hand around John’s throat and began to squeeze, chuckling as John scrabbled uselessly at his arm. 

“Did you really think humans are capable of the kind of empathy required to make your plan work?” he mocked. “I barely had to do anything, and they were eating out of the palm of my hand. Humans are pathetic, frightened little monkeys, and I provided them with a convenient enemy.”

John’s face was turning blue now, his struggles growing weaker and weaker. Neron tilted his head. “Even your team of so-called ‘heroes’ didn’t think twice about slaughtering these monsters until you got your pet shapeshifter.”

A figure loomed behind Neron, casting a shadow on John’s face. Before Neron could turn to investigate, Mick yanked him backwards, causing him to drop John. Mick spun him around till he was face to face with Charlie, who smiled viciously and brought a club down on Neron’s head. 

He crumpled to the ground and Charlie spat on him. “I may be a monster,” she said, “but I ain’t no one’s pet.” 

John groaned weakly, reminding Charlie and Mick of the man they’d come to save. 

“Sorry about that, John-o,” said Charlie. 

John coughed wetly. “Oh no, take your time,”

“Enough!” Tabitha slammed her staff on the ground, creating a deafening boom. She pointed her staff at Wickstable and shouted, “Get them!”

Wickstable roared and took to the air. He circled the tent, mouth filling with flames, then made a low pass over Nora and Gary. 

“Gary!” shouted Nora, which jolted Gary out of his horrified stupor.

“Oh, right,” he said. “Nora Godmother, cast ‘Hold Monster!” 

Nora swished her hand, and Wickstable’s mouth went abruptly dark as he stiffened and plummeted into the stands on the opposite side of the tent. 

Neron, just stumbling to his feet, watched in horror as the audience flickered and vanished as the wooden stands shattered under the dragon. 

Neron shoved Charlie out of the way grabbed John by the lapels of his coat. “What game are you trying to play?” he hissed. 

“No game,” John rasped, glancing deliberately upwards. “Just a damn good show.” 

Neron followed his gaze, then blanched when he saw the dozens of cameras surrounding the of the tent. He dropped John like he was made of hot coals and backed away, panicked.

“Smile for the cameras,” said Charlie smugly. “Because we’re live, straight to every phone that downloaded ‘Eyes’.”

Tabitha shot off a blast of red energy and shattered Nora’s shield, sending her and Gary flying. Nora recovered quickly, then looked down to see Gary’s unconscious form. 

“Dammit, Gary,” she cursed, and began to drag him to safety. 

Wickstable stirred and, with Nora’s magic dispelled and no audience to terrorize, he turned back to the arena, his eyes focusing on the only threat left. Sara watched him with grim determination as his muscles tensed, clearly preparing to pounce. 

“Wicksty, no!” shouted Nate. He ran in front of Sara, still cradling his broken arm. “You’re not a killer!” 

This actually seemed to startle Wickstable, who tilted his head curiously at Nate. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” said Nate soothingly. “You remember your papa. Come to daddy.”

Wickstable blinked and batted Nate aside with an enormous claw, sending him crashing into the arena wall where he lay, unconscious. 

* * *

“No!” screamed Zari on the bridge. She pulled out her headphones and watched, horrified, as Nate lay completely still. 

Charlie, and Mick were running towards Nate, and Sara was already nimbly dodging a blast of fire from Wickstable. 

Zari put her hands over her mouth as Mick felt Nate’s pulse, then heaved a relieved sigh when he and Charlie hauled him to his feet, supporting his weight between the two of them. 

She grabbed her bracelet and began marching to the jumpship, passing Leonard in the hall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he drawled. “Aren’t you a timeline risk?”

“They need me!” she said fiercely. “And I’m not about to stand up here and do _ nothing _while my friends risk their lives!”

Len maintained a disinterested look. “Well, have fun with that,” he drawled, and something in Zari snapped.

“If you don’t get over petty jealousy, Mick is going to wind up _ dead _! Is that what you want?”

“Of course not,” he said sharply. “But-”

“‘But’ nothing,” interrupted Zari, “You’re either in or you’re out. Are you gonna be a hero, or are you gonna sit up here and watch time unfold?”

* * *

“A good effort, dearies,” mocked Tabitha, “Really, much better than I expected from you lot. But playtime is over.” 

Her staff glowed, and Charlie yelped. Her hands had snapped to her sides and began to merge with her body, and green scales appeared where skin once was. Her pupils flattened to slits, and her face began to lengthen into snout

She only had time to shout “Run!” before she’d completely shifted into an enormous serpent, with iridescent green scales and yellow eyes. 

Tabitha’s staff flashed again, and Charlie attacked, striking suddenly towards Mick, her fangs dripping with venom. 

Mick raised his heat gun just in time for Charlie to sink her teeth into it instead of his arm. She punctured the fuel tank, then dropped the gun and hissed, apparently not enjoying the taste of the fuel compound. 

Mick was defenseless now as Charlie rose up for another strike. He closed his eyes and braced himself, when-

She froze, her fangs centimeters from Mick’s face, trapped in a blue haze.

“I don’t _ fucking _think so,” drawled a familiar voice.

Charlie shifted back into her human form and collapsed into Mick’s arms, revealing Len, looking far too pleased with himself. 

She stirred, looked at Mick, followed his gaze, then looked at Len disbelievingly. “You saved my life,” she said.

“Please,” said Len, “I couldn’t let you die in… _ cold blood _.”

Charlie groaned and Mick raised an eyebrow. “That was _ really _bad,” he said fondly.

“Everyone’s a critic,” grumbled Len.

On the ground, Tabitha pointed her staff at Wickstable. “Finish them off, you miserable beast!” she barked.

Wickstable was cut off mid-roar by a voice from the tent entrance.

“Mithra, dance!” yelled Zari.

The dragon didn’t hesitate as it jumped into the air and spun, wiggling its tail joyously.

Tabitha whirled around and glared at Zari. “You’ll regret that,” she said menacingly as she spun her staff, summoning the crackle of lightning and pointing it directly at Zari.

_ CRUNCH _.

Mithra devoured Tabitha in a single bite, leaving no evidence of her existence except her staff, which fell to the ground.

He shook himself like a dog with fleas, then vibrated for a moment, and finally there was a _ pop _. Mithra, a hatchling once again, floated down to Zari’s feet and nuzzled her legs fondly. Zari scooped him up and scratched under his chin.

“That’s my boy,” she cooed. “That’s my man-eating little boy.”

“No!”

Attention snapped back to Neron, cradling Tabitha’s staff desolately. “I’ll make you pay, I’ll make you all _ pay! _” he roared, half-crazed, and struck the staff into the ground.

Instantly, the ground rumbled and the rafters of the tent shook.

“He’s opening the portal to Hell right here!” yelled John over the noise. “We need-“

“I’ve got this,” said Len. He summoned a blast of blue energy and shot it directly at Neron, hitting him square in the chest. His cocky smile faded, however, as Neron gritted his teeth and continued to move, although slowly, as if underwater.

Len narrowed his eyes and concentrated, causing the stream to turn a deeper blue. Neron finally slowed to a stop and the rumbling ceased.

A bead of sweat dropped down Len’s brow onto his cheek as he concentrated. He summoned a blast in his other hand and added it to the stream, causing it to glow even brighter. Slowly, inch by inch, Neron began to move backwards. He released the staff, which fell to the ground in slow motion.

Len tensed and _ pushed _with his mind. Neron began to move backwards even faster, mouth and legs moving as he replayed the last few hours in rewind. Len thought he even saw the moment where he’d nailed him in the eye with Mick’s book.

He rewound faster and faster, a sight that would have been comical if it weren’t for how pale and tense Len looked.

Finally, Ray’s body collapsed, and a dark cloud emerged from his body. A storm of red lightning roiled within its form, and its aura of malice was so strong that everyone in the tent took an unconscious step backwards. 

Len fell to his knees, exhausted, and the blue glow faded from around the two. 

“John!” yelled Sara. “Now!”

John grasped Des’s coin with both hands and began to chant in an incomprehensible language, which seemed to boom deeper than his normal voice. The coin began to radiate golden light through his hands, and his eyes turned gold. At the end of his phrase, he ripped the cord from his neck and seemed to crush the coin in his hand. He blew,and a stream of golden flame shot from his mouth and struck Neron like an arrow. 

There was an anguished scream as the flames consumed him, like the sound of two cats wailing into a megaphone. 

Then, suddenly, there was a deafening silence. 

The coin crumbled to dust in John’s hand, which he watched sadly as he poured it out. 

“For Des,” he said softly. 

In the stands, Mick laid Len down gently as his entire body began to glow a blinding pale blue. He trembled with barely contained power, and when he opened his eyes to look at Mick and Charlie, his pupils were darting back and forth, like he was seeing something they couldn’t. 

“Come on, mate, stay with us,” said Charlie, creases of worry on her brow. 

Len didn’t respond. 

“God dammit, Lenny,” growled Mick, “Snap out of it!” 

Len stirred, as if he’d just heard them. 

“Mick,” he said desperately, “Mick, you’re there?”

“Yeah, Lenny, I’m here,” he said. “And you are too.”

Len’s expression was equal parts fear and wonder. “I… I’m being called back. Time needs someone to watch over it. I can see… _ everything _,” he breathed.

“You and Charlie, you’re _ so _ happy. Mick, I’m sorry. I… I give you my blessing to move on.” 

“You stupid bastard,” said Mick, choked up. “There has not been a day since you died that I haven’t missed you. No matter what, I could never fall out of love with you, because you’re a part of me, and you always will be. And if you die on me again, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“You said time needed someone to watch over it,” said Charlie desperately. “Well, tell someone else to take the bloody job! I can learn to share.”

Abruptly, Len wasn’t glowing. His eyes were their usual blue as he regarded Mick and Charlie a little sheepishly. 

“Oh,” he said, “I hadn’t considered that.”

Mick let out an enormously relieved sigh, then glared at Len. 

“I despise you,” he said, and Len just grinned preciously in response. 

“You love it,” he retorted. 

Mick turned his back and stomped off, muttering under his breath. 

Charlie and Len shared twin smirks as they watched him stomp over to Nate, who just looked absurdly pathetic, cradling his broken arm and looking at Mick helplessly. 

“So,” said Len awkwardly. “We may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”

Charlie snorted. “Really, you think so?”

Len ignored her as he foraged ahead. “I’d like to… apologize,” he said, as if the word itself was distasteful. 

Charlie turned to look at him. “So do it then,” she teased.

“Excuse me?”

“Apologize.”

Len raised an eyebrow. “I just did.”

“No,” said Charlie, “You said you’d _ like _ to apologize. Haven’t heard the magic words yet.” 

“Forget I said anything,” said Len with a scowl, but Charlie could see the hints of a fond smile tugging at his lips. She could work with this, she decided. 

On the floor, Zari rushed to Nate, holding a napping Mithra in her arms. He wrapped an arm around her head as they kissed, and something clicked for Charlie. 

“Zari seems fine,” she said, eyeing Len. “That worked out nice.” 

Len shrugged. “I had a suspicion,” he said nonchalantly.

“Uh-huh. And you had nothing to do with it?” 

“Well, I may have poked around for a bit before you pulled me out, but it’s not like I really _ changed _anything….” he trailed off as a tall man in a brown jacket approached Zari and hugged her from behind, then ruffled her hair. Zari shrugged him off with a theatrical disgust.

“... or at least, nothing _ that _important,” he finished quickly. 

Charlie laughed and tugged on his arm. “C’mon,” she said, “Let’s go before Mick starts to think we’re up to something.” 

“We certainly wouldn’t want that,” he said, smirking back at her, and they went to join the others. 

_ Fin. _

**Author's Note:**

> The original broadway cast recording of hadestown was really integral to this fic, can't express that enough.


End file.
